


The Lion, the beast, the beat

by loveinadoorway



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Jotun!Loki, Magic, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-28
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-23 00:38:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2527544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveinadoorway/pseuds/loveinadoorway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Claire is the Guardian for the city of New Orleans. One night, she meets a mysterious stranger. It's a world of magic, where the Marvel verse and fantasy collide. I frankly admit that I took bits and bobs from various fantasy verses I like and combined them to create Claire. She's been a central character in the stories that never see the light of day for ages now, hope you like her. <br/>And then... theres Loki, of course. <br/>Ah, the things Tom Hiddleston does to me.</p><p>Not entirely sure why I’m writing het.<br/>Not entirely sure, where this beast is headed.<br/>I'm sure there will be smut, will edit the tags as soon as we get to where anything is tagworthy. I did a lot of research and... I’m afraid I will do a lot more during the course of this story. </p><p>The way I write is more a stream of consciousness kind of thing, where I pour words on the page, one thing leads to the next and I do the research when I reach a certain point in the story, rather than plan ahead and have a distinct idea of the storyline as a whole.</p><p>Title and quotes from Grace Potter & the Nocturnals' song The Lion, the beast, the beat</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Feel the beat like fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was suppoed to just be a night on the town, getting some tension out of Claire's system by way of booze and dancing. Maybe a bit of sex on the side. But then she meets the God of Mischief and things get interesting pretty fast.
> 
> The Eldjötnar, the Fire Giants are another class of giants who live on their own world, Muspelheim. They will destroy the world at the end of Ragnarök by setting it on fire. Their leader is Surtr, the black one.  
> Ah, Ragnarök... I think I might have to find my copy of the Edda again for this story.
> 
> The Chitimacha are the indigenous people of Louisiana, especially of the Mississippi Delta. I figured if there’s magic guarding the city, it would be theirs.

_Yeah, we all hide our desire_  
 _And then we feel the beat like fire  
_ _Can somebody let the beast out, baby_

Loki was scanning the crowded club from the top of the stairs. The beat was pulsing like a living thing, pumping, bucking and heaving, sending its thrumming residue through his body. The club smelled like sex. Sweat, perfume and booze.

The air outside had smelled of night blooming jasmine and a chill had just started to descend on the normally pleasantly warm city. Not that he minded. His one gripe with this place was the climate. But he generally managed to shove his inner Frost Giant back into the cold recesses of his mind, no matter how hot the temperatures got.

Loki chuckled lightly. Maybe he should have foregone New York and his grand schemes entirely and should have just settled here and made merry henceforth. New Orleans had a way of capturing a person’s heart and soul. And, well, the schemes hadn’t schemed in his favour, anyhow.

A giggling group of scantily clad women brushed past him on their way out. A busty blonde gave him the eye. He smiled widely, all teeth and sharp angles. He was a predator and he didn’t care who knew it. She winked and motioned for him to follow her. He shrugged and shook his head. No, he should see what was on offer here, first, cute though she was.

His long, black hair was gathered together in a loose pony tail. He wore a black suit, a tad too formal for this club, but he liked it like that. Blood red tie and matching pocket square, no jewelry, except for an ancient ring made of heavy silver. He had not dressed to blend in, he was here to make a bold statement.

He paused when he suddenly spotted the one woman in the entire place that seemed worthy of his attention. She was fairly tall and slender, but nicely rounded in all the right places. He drank in the sight of her. Her auburn hair was curly and cut in a bob. Loki couldn’t be sure, but he thought her eyes might be green.

She was a good dancer, all lithe grace and controlled power. Much too good for the yokels that surrounded her. He watched as she angrily refuted the advances of a slick young man and left the dance floor. He followed her to the bar. It wouldn’t be easy to make contact, pissed off at men in general as she appeared to be.

The place was packed and the bar was at its busiest. She was trying in vain to catch the bartender’s attention. He briefly put his hand on her arm and when she turned to glare at him, simply shook his head and smiled.

“Please, let me try,” he said, making use of a lull in the music, grateful that he didn’t have to scream his first words at her.

“Jack and coke,” she replied curtly.

Of course, he had an unfair advantage over her. He was Loki of Asgard and that had its perks. Using his magic, he called the bartender over, ordered and immediately received two drinks, one dark, one translucent. He paid and handed the dark one over to her.

“I suppose you expect gratitude now,” she half screamed into his ear over the noise of the next song.

Loki smiled, a guarded, non-predatory smile this time. It wouldn’t do at all to scare the little one away. She looked so promising. And it had been way too long since he had last enjoyed the joys of the flesh. He had to be careful. Midgardian women were no pushovers.

“I don’t expect anything. I would, however, be extremely delighted if you would care to dance with me,” he replied silkily, taking great care not to crowd her as he tried to make himself heard.

She hesitated briefly, then leaned in to reply. He could feel her breath on his skin as she spoke directly into his ear. It was incredibly arousing.

 “You know, you’re the first guy to ask me politely all evening. Let’s drink up and then we can get to it.”

Dancing with her was amazing. They moved together naturally, as if they were meant to, bodies easily making room for each other, coming together and moving apart in perfect synch.

Loki couldn’t remember the last time he had had this much fun.

A large part of it was due to the fact that she enjoyed it as much as he did – and without knowing who or what he was. No string attached, no hidden agenda, just two people enjoying the moment.

 

The guy was trouble. With a capital T. No, probably even all capitals. TROUBLE. Yes, like that.

Clearly, no doubt about it. Claire had noticed him right away, walking down the stairs as if he owned the place. She liked a smart dressed man, but his attire was just a notch too Fifth Avenue for night clubbing. Not that he didn’t look fucking awesome in that suit….

When he had bought her a drink, she had been 100% prepared to be annoyed by yet another presumptuous git coming on to her. But he had been polite, hadn’t pressed his advantage, had just nicely ASKED if she wanted to dance. Not like the apes she’d been fending off all evening.

Of course, she’d been curious, after noticing the thin tendril of magic he had used to get their drinks. It hadn’t felt familiar to her. Who was he? And more importantly, WHAT was he?

Had he tried to use magic on her, of course, she would have made sure he lived to regret the day he was born, but so far, he was just... dancing.

And not only dancing, but throwing himself into the music with complete, joyful abandon. Not something she was used to. Most men danced in a calculating manner, either moving in a way that would set off their assets or angling to cop a feel. He, however, was just one with the beat. And with her, as they both moved in harmony through the crowd.

When the current song stopped, he smiled at her. It was an open, slightly mischievous smile that transformed his entire face. The hard edges were gone and he looked like a teenager playing hookey, having the time of his life. She was sure he didn’t allow himself to smile like that very often. Pity, really, that smile was a winner.

She surprised herself by asking if he would like to step outside for a moment, to get some fresh air. He nodded and led the way through the writhing masses of people, clearing a path for her. Chivalry. Not something she was used to.

The night was cooler than expected. She shivered in her dress.

“Allow me,” his voice whispered, very close to her ear. She hadn’t even noticed that he had moved closer.

He draped his jacket over her shoulders. Again with the chivalry. The lingering warmth from his body enveloped her. He had not stepped back and his left hand rested lightly on her arm. It felt nice.

“Thank you,” Claire said softly, contemplating if she should just kiss him or straight up ask him who he was and what kind of magic he was using. A careful person would probably do the latter, but she was just so done with being careful tonight.

Nothing had gone according to plan that day and on top of it all, she had very narrowly escaped being abducted and detained by some obscure government agency looking for people with special powers. But her powers weren’t up for grabs and would never be used and abused by any kind of government.

Claire was a Guardian. There weren’t many of her kind left. The source of her powers lay at the very heart of her city, there for anyone who needed help since time began. Or, well, no, don’t be overly dramatic girl, the power had been there since the city had been founded.

She turned around to face her mystery man. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, she thought as she placed her hand on his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. He seemed slightly surprised at first, but recovered quickly, deepening the kiss and drawing her close.

Just when she was about to completely lose herself in the sensation, he stopped.

Nice. Definitely nice. Too short, though.

He was looking at her hungrily. Claire smiled at him and was just about to ask if they should go somewhere more… private, when he pulled back completely and looked intently into the darkness behind her shoulder.

The wind suddenly grew hot, causing a tremor in her shields. That did not bode well. Something was afoot. Figures, just when she finally met someone interesting. She turned around, trying to find out where the danger might be coming from.

The man behind her had stiffened, just as she had.

“Do you feel it, too?” Claire asked, “There’s something wrong with the… with the wind.”

He relaxed a fraction and said calmly, “What could possibly be wrong with the wind, my dear?”

Claire was about to call bullshit, when an eerie howl echoed down the street. Hot damn, what was that?

Claire could feel him reaching out with his magic. Whoa, buddy… Not his job, this. Her job. She dropped her shields and reached out herself.

She was just about to chuckle as he took a step back in surprise, when her probe encountered something.  She recoiled. A vile, evil thing was lurking in the dark somewhere, plotting and planning. Strong and completely alien.

“There’s something…” Claire whispered, when her companion suddenly pushed her behind himself.

“Múspellsmegir,” he growled.

“What? And get the hell behind me, your chivalry, nice as it is, is very much not needed here,” Claire spat, trying to push in front of him. She might as well have tried to push a truck. The man didn’t budge, didn’t even indicate he felt her pushing.

“Fire Giant,” he hissed, “and believe me, whatever you think your little bit of magic trickery can do, you are no match for him.”

“This is my city, you overbearing dick and I am a fucking Guardian, so step the hell back and let me do my job!”

Loki was fuming. Why couldn’t this mortal woman accept that the Fire Giant was his problem? And what the hell was a Guardian? He caught her under one arm and tried to keep her from rushing towards her certain death.

“WOMAN!” he bellowed, “hold still. I am Loki of Asgard and I assure you, it is I who has to deal with this threat!”

She went perfectly still. Loki. As in… Norse mythology? God of mischief? Trickster? Frost Giant? The guy who had almost laid New York to waste? That Loki? Boy, oh boy, Claire, you sure know how to pick ‘em. And to think he’d seemed so NICE.

She untangled herself from his grip and stepped up next to him.

“You just went from being an overbearing dick to being the father of all untrustworthy dicks, mister, so don’t kid yourself into thinking I’d let you do anything by yourself around here. I guard this city and I will defend it against all evil, be it of the frosty or the fiery giant variety.”

How dare she? Loki was swearing a blue streak as he tried to get out of what appeared to be a binding spell. Tossed at him with no prewarning. She was staring into the darkness. Loki could feel the Jotun drawing closer. Not Surtr, not any of the others he knew personally. Didn’t matter, really. His mere presence here meant there was trouble brewing.

He was still struggling with the binding spell. He shouldn’t be. He was Loki. He…. Damn, but that spell was unlike anything he had ever come up against. Grudgingly, he conceded that maybe his new lady friend had more than just bits of trickery up her sleeves.

She reached behind herself and pulled a fiery sword from thin air. Definitely impressive, but Loki was still convinced she was no match for the Jotun. He had to get out of that binding spell. Suddenly, he stopped struggling and smiled. No, this could not be broken by force. But maybe force wasn’t what was needed in the first place.

“Let me help you. Please. This is a threat from my realm. I know what to do. Please.”

It was the second please that did it. Claire was sure that voice had to be illegal. It did THINGS to her. She snapped the binding spell. She’d probably live to regret it, but then again, she didn’t have a clue what a Fire Giant was and how to defeat one, so she figured the regret of having let Loki loose might be preferable to the regret of NOT doing it. In the grander scheme of things.

The Trickster went to stand next to her again and said calmly: “Your sword seems to be made of fire. You can’t fight fire with fire.”

“And you, being a Frost Giant, could fight fire with ice, or what are you trying to say?”

So she knew, really KNEW. Which meant she wouldn’t let him touch her again, not even if he did the entire knight in shining armour routine, protecting the city from the evil that had invaded it. Because he was… what he was. And women didn’t let a vile, red-eyed, blue-skinned thing like that near them. Simple as that.

“I couldn’t fight him here. The collateral damage would be too great. But I can send him back to where he came from, which would at least give us time to figure out what the Eldjötnar want.”

His voice was calm and certain. Trickster or not, Claire’s gut was saying that she should trust him, at least in this, if not in much else.

“Buying us time sounds like a good idea. What can I do to help?” she said, not turning her head away from the blackest of shadows, where she knew their enemy was hiding.

“Can you throw a shield between us and the rest of the city? Just to make sure that no backlash could hit anything in this world?”

Claire called upon the city’s protective magic to wall them in. Soon, there was a bubble of bright light that enclosed them. She could feel Loki opening a portal somehow. The other side of it was almost like a living creature. She could sense it in her bones. A world of heat and fire, a world that reveled in destruction and chaos. She shuddered. Yes, the barrier was a good thing.

Loki was struggling, but he hoped that his lady friend wasn’t noticing. Calling another portal so soon after transporting himself here was threatening to drain his powers. Especially a portal to Muspelheim. He had to keep control of the opening, had to make sure he wasn’t creating a permanent rift, as he now cast the spell that should pull the Jotun back to where he belonged.

Suddenly, there was a powerful presence on the other side of the portal. Surtr. DAMMIT. Loki tried to complete the spell despite the magic that was now used against him by the Black One. He had no choice but to give the entire situation one giant, violent push and hope for the best.

Claire noticed right away that something was wrong. The presence she felt from the other side of the portal grew more focused and more evil by the second and she could see on Loki’s face that he was feeling it, too. Feeling it and not liking it one bit.

When Loki gathered his energy to give it one last, big push, she knew in her bones that it wouldn’t work. The force on the other side was using a counterspell and it seemed to be much stronger than Loki’s. She could see the portal widening, could see figures waiting to come through. Something needed to be done.

Of all the ways to go, this was not the one Claire would have chosen, as she poured every ounce of magic she herself possessed into the bubble engulfing them. It went blood red. Then she called upon the ancient magic of the Chitimacha tribe, the source of the Guardian’s power and triggered the kill switch only she could trigger.

Everything went black.


	2. Don't fear what you can't see

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I can safely say one thing, people. This is NOT going the way it was intended, LOL! But I'm fairly happy with chapter two.
> 
> Plus, there's smut already. Yay.

_Steady now, steady now_  
 _Don't fear what you can't see_  
 _Ready now, ready now  
_ _I'll hold on to you, you hold on to me_

Claire slowly swam back into consciousness. It was hot, way too hot. And dark. She gingerly sat up. Rock beneath her, rock to the side of her, all too warm to comfortably touch. Was this a cave? Maybe. She was hurting all over. So either she had taken the express train to Hell, or she wasn’t dead and had been sucked into the portal.

A deep groan sent her scrambling through the dark, trying to find her one chance of maybe surviving this. Maybe even getting back home? Nope, don’t get your hopes up, girl, the situation wasn’t looking good. But at least she wasn’t alone. If she could find him. Damn, where was he? Her searching hands suddenly made contact with fine wool and hard muscle. Gotcha.

He wasn’t responding to her touch at all. But she had heard him groan – a groan, a proper groan, not a death rattle. She frantically ran her fingers over his chest and upwards to his neck. Feeling for the pulse of a… what was he, anyway? Demigod? Did Frost Giant demigods even have a pulse? She hadn’t exactly taken Frost Giant anatomy 101 in college...

His skin was clammy. Probably not a good sign. After loosening the tie and opening the top button of his shirt, she actually did find a pulse, however, faint and slightly erratic, but it was there. She wasn’t entirely sure if the faint and erratic bit was good news or bad, but there wasn’t all that much to do except sit here in the stifling hot darkness and wait for Loki Laufeyson to wake up. And then maybe to develop a plan to get them both home. If there was even the faintest option for getting out of here.

All of this was proof positive that a bad day can always, ALWAYS and without fail get so much worse. Only minutes ago, her worst problem had been these S.H.I.E.L.D. jokers and the louts in the club who were trying to get into her pants with all the finesse and subtlety of a wrecking ball. Now she was cradling an Asgardian God’s head in her lap (and how the hell had THAT happened? She couldn’t even remember putting it there.), checking his pulse every five seconds just because she was scared he might suddenly die on her.

After what felt like hours, a small gasp and a tightening of his muscles announced that Loki had woken up. Not sure if he might lash out at someone touching him in the dark, Claire rubbed his chest in what she hoped was a reassuring manner and whispered: “Glad you’re back among the living.”

The last time Loki had felt like he’d been hit by a steamroller had been when the Hulk had pummeled him in New York. This, arguably, was a tad worse. Okay, truth be told, it was A LOT worse. On the plus side, his head was in his lady friend’s lap and she was caressing his chest. Oh, and definitely on the plus side, they were both still alive.

He felt strange, though. He sat up carefully and tried to make sense of their surroundings. He should be able to see better in the dark, what the hell was wrong with him? He could feel himself swaying slightly. That did not bode well.

“Easy, Tiger. I had to seal that portal in a pretty drastic manner, so we’re both probably a bit the worse for wear,” said Claire, holding him against her as he tried to stop the nausea that suddenly engulfed him.

“Never felt like this before, don’t know what’s wrong,” Loki ground out through clenched teeth.

He hated being in the dark. Darkness was never friendly, never comfortable, not for him. He reached for his magic to call a light. There was nothing there.  
There.  
Was.  
Nothing.  
There.

Claire could feel Loki tensing up. Something was very, very wrong. If only she could SEE what was going on with him!

If she hadn’t given up all of her magic in that spell, she could have just conjured a witch light.

She had barely finished the thought, when a tiny. Slightly wobbly light appeared, hovering over the palm of her hand and casting a warm glow around them.  
That.  
Was.  
Impossible.

Her magic was gone, used up to seal the breach in the fabric between the worlds, together with the full force of the power of the Guardian. There was no way she should have been able to do even such a simple thing as conjuring up that witch light.

She bit down on a gasp when she saw Loki in the warm glow. He had changed, skin blue, eyes red and raised ornamental ridges accentuating the… otherness. He was beautiful, Claire thought. A magnificent being, a gorgeous man.

“My.. my magic is.. gone,” Loki said, his voice very controlled.

He was trying VERY hard not to panic. At least there was a little bit of light now. Why by all that was holy hadn’t she conjured up a light before? Sitting in the pitch black darkness like idiots..

“My magic SHOULD be gone. Only it’s not. I don’t really know what happened,” she said softly.

So that explained the light thing, then. She hadn’t thought she could do it, so she hadn’t tried. That must have been some spell, if it would normally take all her magic plus a boost from the Guardian power source. Loki wasn’t sure, but the only thing that made sense concerning the loss of his own powers was that the spell must have taken his out instead of hers.

“What kind of a spell did you use back there?”

“It’s what Guardians call the kill switch. When a situation is such that you think it might destroy the city you protect, you pour your entire magic in a spell and combine it with the power of the Guardian and… just… push. That’s what I did. Pushed, so the breach would seal. I thought you being who you are, you’d probably survive it.”

“And what about you?”

“Not important. It’s my calling to protect the city. Even if it means…”

Loki was slightly stunned. She had not hesitated, not even for a split second, to put her life on line. And his, he thought wryly. But he had survived, even if his magic hadn’t. He couldn’t be sure what exactly had happened and how he had lost his magic, but he was fiercely determined to get it back.

She was still holding him. It felt good, surprisingly so, considering that he was sore all over and that the heat was adding to his discomfort. He leaned back against her, tilted his head back and turned it so he could press a light kiss against her jaw. He half expected to get slapped for it, but she hardly had seemed to notice.

He suddenly snorted a laugh.

“It just occurred to me that I don’t even know your name. Bit awkward, given how I just almost died alongside of you.”

“It’s Claire. Claire Delancey.”

“And what shall we do now, Claire Delancey? Stuck in enemy territory, me without my magic, you with no clue how to fight giants.. what shall we do now? Hm?”

He turned around and looked quizzically at her. Weirdly enough, being stuck powerless in the home of his enemies made him feel strangely elated. A rush of excitement ran through his body. A dire situation, the odds definitely stacked against his favour and a gorgeous woman by his side, such was the stuff legends were made of. Or cautionary tales for aspiring young giants, if things went badly.

Claire didn’t know what to make of that kiss and she definitely didn’t like the light glinting in Loki’s blood red eyes. She had seen that look before, in the eyes of people who saw no way out but to fight the unwinnable fight. But then again, what choice did they have? They either had to find a way out of their current predicament, or they could just lie back and wait for certain death. And given the choice, she’d rather die fighting.

“I can tell you what I definitely will NOT do, Loki Laufeyson. I will NOT give up and die in this cave. Or whatever this is. I’ll try to get out of here until there’s nothing left to try. You?”

“In the words of your great poet Dylan Thomas, my dear Claire, I will not go gentle into that good night. Always have been more of a ‘rage, rage against the dying of the light’ kind of guy,” Loki said, chuckling.

“Well then, what next?”

A woman after his own heart, Loki thought. There was a fierceness about her that spoke to him. A pity that they probably wouldn’t survive this entire thing. She’d have made a rather spectacular… He broke off. Dangerous train of thought. He didn’t need anyone. He didn’t need hope in his life, because he didn’t need more betrayal and disappointment.

The heat was beginning to affect him more seriously now. He was light-headed and his dress shirt was soaked with sweat. Breathing was getting hard. This was not a world he would be able to withstand for long. Last time, he had been at full power and the fight had drained him within hours. Now, he had no powers at all and merely being here was draining him faster than anyone could say Bifrost.

Loki briefly contemplated telling her that he was not exactly doing well, but decided against it. He had said too much already, when he had admitted to having lost his magic. Never show anyone your weaknesses. Never. Not even someone whose very job description it was to care.  
A Guardian.  
Of all people.   
Not the term they used in Asgard, so he'd been momentarily thrown when she had first said it, but Loki remembered now that he had heard tales of them, of course. Never thought he’d actually meet one. Never thought he’d end up stranded without hope of rescue with one.

The man wasn’t looking too well.

Claire put her hand on Loki’s back. His shirt was wet and he was burning up, yet he was shivering. Frost Giant in a world made of fire. Probably not a good match. He needed water. If he kept sweating buckets like that, it wouldn’t take him long to dehydrate, God or not. And he was the only one with any idea of where they were and what the hell to do about where they were. Plus, she thought, with a slight bit of hysteria, he was a good dancer and a great kisser. Not that that really mattered.

She tried to recall a spell her grandmother had taught her when Claire was a little girl.

Her grandmother’s magic was of the elemental kind and she had been able, among many other splendid things, to call water with a song. They had been sitting on the porch, one hot summer day and her gran had done tricks for her. Claire had been incredibly fascinated by the way fire would burn without burning anything and water would appear out of thin air. Endless wonders.

Claire shouldn’t have been able to learn how to do this, since her magic was rooted in the ancient ways. True names were her power, not the elements. Her mother had been shocked beyond belief, when Claire had proudly demonstrated her new trick. It was then they had known that Claire was destined to be a Guardian, for only Guardians were able to bend other magic sources to their will. It was a necessity for tapping into a city’s power source, like Guardians had to so they could to do their duty.

Claire started humming the melody, simple at first, then cascading just like a waterfall. She could feel the power surging through her, could feel the exact moment when it happened. A small waterfall suddenly appeared on the wall next to her. Clear, clean water, gushing towards the ground, where it pooled and steamed on the hot rocks.

She motioned for Loki to drink. The water would stop as soon as she stopped humming. No way for her to get any. Couldn’t be helped, his need was greater than hers. He drank his fill, then cupped his large hands and filled them with some water and nodded at her. She stopped the song and the water disappeared, except for the rest that he had caught in his hands and was now offering to her.

There was a strange look in Loki’s eyes as he approached her, cupped hands outstretched. As if he expected… for her to turn him down? For her to hurt him? She was strangely moved by what she read in his eyes. The entire dynamic between then was on the way to getting very, very complicated indeed, she thought, if she kept seeing things in him that contradicted what she thought she knew about him.

She bent down and drank from his hands. When she looked up at him, the look on his face had changed completely. It was soft and a little confused, as if he was completely reassessing the way the universe worked. When her lips touched his skin in an effort to catch the last few drops, that look changed again. Heat, now. Definitely heat.

The second he had cupped his hands to gather the water, he had noticed his hands were blue. He must have been more impaired by her spell than he had thought when he hadn’t even noticed that the beast was out of the cage. She had held him, regardless. Loki didn’t understand. How could she stand touching him, when he looked like that?

And now she was drinking from his hands, without hesitation. Not many people would. Because he was the Trickster and because he was an abomination nobody would touch if they didn’t have to. A simple gesture of… trust shouldn’t affect him as this had. Simple? No, not so much. Nothing was ever simple.

Then her lips made contact with his hands and it felt like a kick in the guts. And that, definitely, wasn’t simple, either.

He should have done a million things that moment. What he should, however, not have done was bring her up hard against his body and kiss her like there was no tomorrow.

There might not be a tomorrow, but there also wasn’t a now that he could comfortably work with, so this kiss served no purpose.

Except it satisfied the burning need in him.

His tongue probed and plundered and danced around hers and she was pressing against him in the most delicious manner. Her hands were tangled in his hair and there was no doubt whatsoever that she wanted this as much as he did. And the now he’d thought he couldn’t work with began to look more and more feasible.

He broke the kiss to whisper: “If we don’t make it out of here, I at least want to have you this one time.”

“Yes,” she whispered back, “yes, please.”

He pushed her back until he could prop her up against the cave wall. He kissed her again, hard and urgent, all teeth and wrong angles, too much pressure, yet it seemed not enough. She bit down on his lower lip and Loki could feel something give inside of him. The only thing that mattered was this moment and the way she felt against his body.

She was running her hand over the raised ridges of the lines on his face and he moaned at the touch, at the acceptance he had never experienced before. He was getting drunk on that sensation. He wanted to hear her scream his name as she came, wanted to hold her through the aftershocks, wanted for this to be more than a meeting of bodies in the heat and the dark.

He worked his hand under her dress. Her panties were damp between her legs and the second he touched her there, he could feel her push against his hand. With a feral growl, Loki tore the thin fabric, too impatient for finesse. Her hand was on his fly, freeing his cock and guiding it inside of her in one motion. He lifted her up and her legs wrapped themselves around his hips as he ground into her.

Somehow, they ended up on the cave floor. It was hot, primitive, urgent and they both would be sporting some impressive bruises and scratches, but it didn’t matter. It was perfect in its animalistic simplicity and there was nothing in the world that mattered, except the desperate, raw clash of their bodies.

The force of her orgasm hurled him over the edge as well. It felt like he was coming apart at the seams, it felt like everything was coming together, it felt like the end of the world.


End file.
